Male Widow

Right after finishing a meeting, I opened a forum and saw a warning post. The location tag was our company. The title read: “Red flag! What a cheap company. Anyone who joins is a total sucker. They can’t even afford a decent coffee break.” The photo attached showed the expensive coffee and five-star desserts I had just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frowned and tagged the entire group chat, asking if anyone had suggestions about the afternoon tea. A Gen-Z intern who had just joined, Julian Hayes, instantly replied with a voice message: “Boss, no offense, but these assembly-line desserts are full of trans fats. Nobody would eat them.” “A truly humane company hires a Michelin chef to cook and slice everything fresh on site. That’s what real respect for employees looks like.” I laughed in disbelief. Our company’s daily coffee break budget was thirty dollars per person—already considered top-tier in the industry. So I replied, “Since it’s impossible to satisfy everyone’s taste, we’ll cancel afternoon tea from now on and convert the budget into cash for everyone instead.” Less than five minutes later, that post was updated: “Guys, can you believe this? I made a perfectly reasonable suggestion and the lame boss immediately canceled the whole coffee break perk! This is the true face of corporate greed—can’t handle even a little bit of honesty!”

After my elder brother passed away, I took my sister-in-law home. She and my wife were identical twins. I always mixed them up. Fortunately, my wife had a red mole on her upper body. “Wyatt, can you tell my elder sister and me apart?” My wife pestered me while throwing amorous glances my way. I eyed her fair upper body and replied confidently, “Of course…”

Grandma lay bedridden, her dementia taking hold as she repeated Scarlett Hayes's name over and over. Tears streamed down my face as I dialed my wife's number. When she picked up, Scarlett sounded irritated. She said she was working late tonight and would call me back when she was free. I could clearly hear the sound of a man's laughter in the background. The moment I hung up, Grandma gasped sharply. She called out my wife's name. It was her last breath. While I sat drowning in grief, Scarlett's male best friend Chase Morrison posted a video update, geotagged at a couples' hotel. In the video, their fingers were laced together. The woman's arm bore a distinctive black mole I recognized instantly. The caption read: "When two hearts become one, why care what anyone else thinks?" In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I gritted my teeth and left a comment. "Let's file for divorce tomorrow. Then you two can be together openly and legally. You'll even save on the hotel fees. Win-win, right?"

My wife, Jana Webster, uses her work at the company as an excuse to skip out on Leah Haynes, our daughter's field day. She even tells us not to participate in the activity. Having noticed how disappointed Leah looks, I decide to take her to the field day myself. As soon as we walk into the school, I spot Jana sitting on the couch located on the stage with her first love, Barton Ritter, as well as his son, Trenton Ritter. They look so close, as though they were an actual family of three. With a microphone in her hand, Jana goes on and on about how she's capable of keeping her family happy while maintaining a successful career. As she speaks, she smiles at Barton from time to time. The audience beneath the stage applauds heartily, giving Jana an ego boost. Even Trenton wears a haughty look. Soon, it's time for the Q&A session. I quickly snatch the microphone over. "Ms. Webster, since when do you have a son? Does your husband know about it?"

On Valentine's Day, I wait for my wife, Nancy Curtis, to get off work after preparing a candlelit dinner for our date. But she only texts me at 9:00 pm. "I have something going on at the company. There's no need to wait for me." Soon, I see a Facebook post made by Nancy's secretary, Derek Jones. "I'm on a business trip with my female boss on Valentine's Day. The thing is, the hotel's fully booked. Oops, this is getting awkward…" The photo in the post features a feminine silhouette standing in front of a floor-to-ceiling window while draped in a bathrobe. Everyone in the comment section compliments Derek for being lucky, seeing as the boss of his has a smoking hot figure and is extremely charming. Derek merely replies with a cheeky emoji. So, it turns out that Nancy's "business" is having fun with her own secretary, eh? I take a screenshot of Derek's post before uploading it to my own social media feed. I even include a smiley as a caption. Immediately, Nancy calls me on the phone and starts berating me. "Derek was just cracking a joke! Why are you being so petty, huh? And here I thought you were mature!" I end the call immediately before texting her, "Let's get a divorce."

We have weird rules set in place in this home. 1. Ethan's opinion is the one that matters the most in all events. 2. If Matthew has any objections, please refer to the first rule. Ethan Moreno is the real heir who has been reunited with the family. I am Matthew Moreno, the fake heir. My adoptive parents claim that they've set up these rules because they are worried that Ethan might not feel at ease when he's home. That's why when Ethan asks to move into my room, I let him have it. When he demands that I give him my scholarship, I give it to him obediently. When he tells me he wants to marry my fiancee, Holly Nottings, I agree to it. Even when Ethan plans on using our family's account to donate ten million dollars to a university in exchange for an exchange student slot, I agree to let him have his way as well. After all, when I refused to give Ethan what he wanted in my previous life, he threatened to commit suicide after he got his sorry ass dumped by Holly. When my adoptive parents found out about it, they strung me up and had me whipped for three days and nights. By the time I was released, I was already reduced to a shriveled-up corpse. When I open my eyes once again, I hear my adoptive father claiming that he'll wire ten million dollars from the family account to Ethan.

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."

It was the day Jessica Goldenfold got the International Wealth Club Charity Award. My doctor pronounced me dead, for I could not afford the artificial heart needed for my survival. The show's host asked Jessica to call the one whom she had the most regret about. She called my number. I picked it up. She asked, "Do you ever regret leaving me for money?" I stared at the obscene bill for the artificial heart. Then, I chuckled. "You're a rich girl, Jessica. How about a loan of 30 grand?" She killed the call. I watched her telling everyone in front of the cameras, "No more regrets." She had no idea at all. She had no idea that I was the one who gave my heart to her when she had heart failure. I did it behind her back.

At the annual company meeting, my wife, Rosalie Smith, claims that I've never made any contributions to the company, so she demands that I give up my position as the chief engineer and transfer all of my research findings to her first love, Harry West. Enraged by Rosalie's shamelessness, I quit my job on the spot before throwing the divorce agreement at Harry's face. "Working in this day and time is very difficult, you know! How about I just be more generous and let you take over my position as the CEO's husband instead?" For a moment, everyone swaps looks with each other, thinking that I'm merely jealous of Harry. But no one knows that I'm the one with the core technology of the company. No one can replicate it nor steal it from me. Without my core tech, the company's products are reduced to a bunch of useless codes. As for Rosalie, she will face massive debts and the crisis of her company going into bankruptcy.

At two in the morning, during a raid, I personally arrested my wife, Carolyn Hewitt, in a rundown motel room. Her neck was covered in hickeys. In handcuffs, she sat beside the bed, trying to comfort her younger brother, who had curled up in the corner, quietly sobbing. "Alex failed his exam and has been feeling terrible. So, I brought him here to relax. Don't get the wrong idea." In the past, I would have already been shouting at her. However, at that moment, I did not even have the strength to expose her lies. I had heard them too many times. "Mark… About this…" My partner nudged me with his elbow, glancing toward the registration form. He was telling me it was up to me how I wanted to handle it. Keeping a cold face, I aimed my body camera toward the foot of the bed. "Handle it by the book. No special treatment." "Mark Russ!" She suddenly struggled against the handcuffs. "What kind of brother-in-law are you? Alex is only 20! If he ends up in jail, his whole life will be ruined!" Her eyes reddened as she spoke, but my expression did not change. I said calmly, "When have you ever treated me like family? Carolyn…let's get a divorce."